


Prompto Monsters

by yeaka



Series: The Chocobro Show [8]
Category: Final Fantasy XV, Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:35:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21684604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Prompto gets it.
Series: The Chocobro Show [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1538524
Comments: 15
Kudos: 70





	Prompto Monsters

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV, Pokémon, or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Ignis doesn’t rush over. There was a time when he would leap to answer any of Noctis’ woeful calls, both because he loves Noctis dearly and because it’s so deeply ingrained in him to _protect_ his wayward prince. But now, in early adulthood, he’s realized that some of that coddling has inevitably prevented Noctis from growing up, and his ‘emergencies’ are rarely _emergencies_. Now Ignis judges the tone of Noctis’ voice when he weighs out Noctis’ pleas. Ignis drives a few notches under the limit because he’s quite sure Noctis isn’t _actually_ in any trouble. 

The door’s still locked when Ignis arrives, which is a good sign; Noctis isn’t too frantic to have forgotten. Ignis, of course, has a key, one almost as well worn as the one to his own apartment. He lets himself inside and doesn’t hear any cries of distress.

He wanders into the living room to find Noctis and Prompto on the floor, kneeling over several back-to-back printouts of colourful squiggles. When Ignis gets close enough, he sees that they’re pokémon— _every_ pokémon—with either a check mark or large ‘x’ over them. At least, a small portion of generation one bears those marks. 

Noctis looks over his shoulder when he sees Ignis, straightening up to bluntly ask, “Is Machoke attractive?”

Ignis sighs. He knew it. He should’ve just stayed home. He asks, already exasperated, “What?” 

“Prompto’s being an idiot—”

“Hey!”

“—and he won’t put ‘ugly’ pokémon on his team. But, like... Machoke’s fine, right?”

Prompto rolls his eyes like Noctis is the only one being ridiculous. “Dude, that’s what pokémon are _for_ , and you said I could have the controller!”

“That’s because I didn’t think you’d play like a dumbass,” Noctis counters. “You’re supposed to put the strongest ones on your team—everybody knows that! And Machoke is strong, so you need to catch it!”

“I said I’d catch it, but I’m not _using_ it! He’s gross!”

“How is he gross? He has freaking biceps bigger than Gladio’s!”

“That’s weird on an animal! They’re not _supposed_ to have big biceps!”

“Why are you being so judgmental anyway? It’s not like Machoke drew himself!”

“Dude, you have to pick somehow, and there’s _so many_ prettier pokémon!”

“They’re not supposed to be pretty!”

Prompto groans, as though they’ve been arguing over this for hours, because clearly they have—surely printing out an enormous list of every single pokémon wasn’t their first move. Ignis can see that they haven’t even bothered to turn off the television. The game’s stuck on the menu screen, lilting background music just begging someone to come back and play it.

Prompto looks up at Ignis and asks, in complete sincerity, because evidently they need a tiebreaker: “Is Machoke pretty?”

Ignis just turns around and leaves.


End file.
